


Devil's Backbone

by Misanthropy_Aesthetic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angels, Demons, Fallen Angels, M/M, Multi, Reapers, Reincarnation, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:45:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanthropy_Aesthetic/pseuds/Misanthropy_Aesthetic
Summary: Inspired by the song Devil's Backbone from The Civil Wars. P.s. Intentional naming, hope you get it and also I suck at summarizing. Thanks for reading this bit. ••••••• It wasn't odd for an angel to roam around on earth from time to time, but it was particular when one would come into contact with a creation of deus even more so when said divine being would keep its acquaintance. A different kind of relationship begins between two different worlds. Zane slowly begins to be aware of that emotion called love while Elouise comes to understand where he comes from. War outbreaks between the light, and dark. Zane is heavens most honored warrior; he is forced to decide whether or not to stay on earth, and risk his status just for his very first love.         Decades pass, and go. The Devine being however is roaming earth, and suffering his consequences, but after much time has passed he's determined to alter his curse.





	

_Introduction._

“You know instead of being held up in the bathroom smoking a spliff we should go out and drink the free beer they're offering at the party.” Harry advises from where he seated on the sink, back faced Zayn. 

Zayn hits Harry and holds his hand out from the tub waiting for said brunet to pass him the joint while he looks at what the mural, he's done on the tile, is missing. “Liam said it was the cheap kind.” 

“But you can still get drunk, can't you?”

Zayn shrugs, placing the blunt back in Harry's fingers after he takes a drag, “Whatever man.” 

“Are you almost done?” 

“Patiences is an essential my dear Harold.” Zayn begins while he sprays a small, white, straight line for the finishing touch, “Look.” 

“Finally.” Harry turns around and comes to face with a realistic portrait from chest up of a woman wearing authenic Dia de los Muertos attire, her thick hair adorned of red roses as a crown, nothing less but elegant. “Your drawings always leave me speechless.”

“Then why is it that you seem to always talk, eh?” 

Harry punches Zayn's arm, and pulls out his phone. “Jackass, you know what I mean.”

The Cheshire lad takes a snap of the drawing making sure he got some part of Zayn's body as a memorabilia, this time being his arm.

“You love their culture don't you?” Harry asked still marvled. 

“What's not to love,” Zayn nods appreciative, “Fucking beautiful innit.”

“Want me to turn the vent on?” 

“Yeah.” Zayn answers proceeding to open the window. “Want the last hit?”

“Nah, you can have it.”

So, Zayn does then they leave parting ways to find their other mate.

Harry gives up in the living room after five minutes of scanning. He can't see much because the lights are dimmed plus the ample stench of perspiration, cologne, desperation, and perfume mixed together got to him. 

He leaves to the kitchen where he grabs a cup of beer as he passes the keg and sits in one of the available chairs, he's not alone. There's five people including himself, scratch that it's just him now.

 _Wonderful._ He thinks happily. 

Harry reclines on the chair, and pulls out his phone. The screen was still on Zayn's mural so he proceeds to sends it to Liam before putting it up.

A guy comes in through the back door with his small hands cupped around his mouth blowing shallow breaths of warm air into them before pulling out a pack of Marlboro, he curses to himself when he doesn't feel the outline of his lighter in the pocket of his pants. He walks over to the old gas stove, turns it on to see if it would start, when it doesn't he kicks it with his black boot then flinches because he stubbed his toe and let's out a soft whimper. 

Harry can't help but think that he recognize the guy along with the thought that he is fit, can't help but follow the pink tongue with his eyes as they wet lips, also can't help but think how his tongue would look licking a strike down his shaft. He won't say much more because, maybe, his eyesight is deceiving him after all it's been a while since his last check up. 

“Hey.” The bloke suddenly says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you have a lighter?” He makes a motion with his fingers as if he was trying to ignite an invisible one. 

Harry reaches into his pocket as he stands and pulls it out, throws it to the guy who graciously catches it while thanking him before leaving out through the same door he came in. He follows the shorter frame of a lad because that is his good lighter and he might need it later.

The drop of the bass is heard from outside and Harry doesn't stop his head from banging with the beat. 

When the jade eyed see's him there's a smile playing on his lips, “I'll give it back, once it catches fire.”

Harry watches him struggle for a bit before he grabs his wrist to stop, “Let me see.” 

He hands the cigarette to him and while doing so notes the way his slim fingers shake. 

“It's wet.”

“I can't really fucking tell because my hands are numb from being out here all night but then again they should be wet if I found them in my bathroom sink.” He laughs slightly, fiddling with the packet in hand. “Should throw these away then, there no use.”

“Save them, just wait till they're dried.” 

“Right.” He says, and looks at him. “Smart fellow.” 

His dark sapphire eyes are memorizing just as the rest of him, Harry thinks, “Um, I think my mate might have one on him, if you like want it?” 

“Yeah, I'd appreciate it.” He tucks away his pack in the pocket of his jean where it sticks out a little because of his curves. 

“We have to find him first.”

“How does he look like?”

“A Greek god.”

He laughs, replying sarcastically. “Okay.”

They find Zayn sitting on the stairs that lead to the second floor of the house talking to some stranger.

“You weren't fucking kidding.” The guy says utterly shocked.

“No, I wasn't.” Harry says, a triumphant smirk on his thin lips as he turns to Zayn. “Do you have a cigarette?” 

Zayn nods and produces the packet from his pocket. “Here.” 

Harry grabs two, and hands them to him.

“I only needed one.”

“Yeah, well... Take it anyways.” 

“You have a kind soul.” He says grateful as if his kindness etched one point into restoring humanity's faith.

The dark brunet turns around handing back the Marlboro to Zayn who cocks his brow up questioning why he was doing this. 

Harry waves Zayn off, turns around and notices the lad was being dragged out of the frat party by a blond person.

“We have to go.” Liam yells at the two.

“Why?”

“Niall may or may not be the cause of a fire we can't turn off.“ 

“Who the hell is Niall?” Harry asks.

“A friend of mine.” 

“Fuck sake, and you wonder why we can't have nice things.” Zayn sighs already making his way out, grabbing a hold of Harry's hand. 

_Death, You seem to always bring us together._


End file.
